


Like a funeral

by Elisexyz



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different Framework Universe (Marvel), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grant Ward Isn't Hydra, Post-Uprising, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-12 18:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18451970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: Grant has had a long day. So has Simmons, by the looks of it.(Actually, so has just about everyone in SHIELD -actualSHIELD.)





	Like a funeral

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for the "Big Brother Instinct" prompt [on my Bad Things Happen Bingo card on Tumblr](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com/post/184184541424/big-brother-instinct-fill-for-the-bad-things). Set in a Framework-inspired universe.

Grant has had a long day. Probably the longest he’s had in a while, actually.

If fighting his way out of sticky situations, living side by side with scum during an undercover op, rolling with the punches when he stumbles across some alien crap while on mission are all kind of stressful days that he’s learnt how to deal with, SHIELD collapsing on itself, destroyed from the inside by Hydra growing in it for decades, is— definitely not a regular day at the office.

It isn’t over, yet: they were taken by surprise, and Hydra turned out to be running much deeper than anybody could have ever imagined, even in the highest ranks, but there are enough of the good ones still standing, and they’ve got Victoria. Grant is honestly convinced that that woman could take over the world, if she set her mind to it, and he is going to do his best to help her do it.

Walking around the corridors of the secret base they are hiding out in – because there isn’t much else they can do, not for now, and isn’t that frustrating –, Grant finds that most people have decided to hole up to lick their wounds in private, and those that are still restlessly pacing around don’t pay him any mind.

He finds Simmons in the tv room, curled up on the couch in the semidarkness.

He could simply keep walking, it’s not like he ever even met her before today, but he still has burnt into his skull the image of her hidden in a crashed lab with a dead specialist on her lap, blood all over her clothes, tears on her face and the guy’s gun in her hands, although she clearly had no idea what she was doing, so Grant is pretty sure that checking on her will help him sleep him better tonight.

Provided that he sleeps at all, of course.

“Hey,” he says, casually. He doesn’t sit down, choosing to awkwardly stand by the doorway in case she tries to throw something at him or otherwise show that she’d much rather be left alone. “How are you holding up?”

Simmons turns towards him: much to his relief, she isn’t crying anymore, but she looks awfully tired. She should probably be getting some sleep, but he understands why that might be easier said than done.

She shrugs. “Pretty good, all things considered,” she offers, her tone forcibly neutral.

“That why you’re sitting here alone?” he says, his voice gentle.

She smiles bitterly. “My whole team is either dead or Hydra, Agent Ward,” she points out. “I don’t know anybody here.” She pauses, drawing in a shaky breath as she pulls her legs slightly closer to her chest and her eyes drop to the ground. “My best friend is Hydra,” she adds, quietly.

Grant takes a sharp breath, nodding briefly even though she isn’t looking at him anymore.

Everyone knows about the great Fitzsimmons, even those who have never met them in person: they are two of SHIELD’s brightest minds, inseparable since their days in the academy, a formidable team, really. Except it turns out that Fitz has been pretty deep into Hydra this whole time. He calls himself ‘The Doctor’, like a perfect comic book villain, and it would make Grant laugh if the whole situation weren’t so shitty.

“I can imagine that was— a surprise,” he says, carefully. He isn’t sure if following that line of conversation is a good idea. She probably doesn’t want to pour her heart out to a guy that she doesn’t even know, but, as she said, it’s not like there is _anybody_ that she knows here.

Simmons snorts without any humour, curling a little more on herself. There are a few moments of silence, then she turns back towards him, her eyes filled with tears that she is somehow managing to hold back.

“Were you hoping to have the room?” she asks, her voice quivering a little around the edges. “I’ve been here for hours, I can move someplace else.”

“No, no, that’s fine,” he quickly says, raising his hands up as if to physically dismiss her concerns and throwing in what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “I was just walking by,” he explains. “Thought I’d check in.”

Curled up like that on the couch, she looks a lot like when he first found her, and it makes his stomach twist on itself.

“Thank you,” she says, smiling a little too. That makes a few tears leak, but she’s quick to wipe them away with the back of her hand. “That was kind of you,” she adds then, maybe to move his attention away from the fact that she’s crying.

He supposes it’s time to make himself scarce.

“It’s nothing,” he assures. “I’ll—I’ll leave you alone, then.” He’s about to walk away, and probably keep walking until he’s exhausted enough to get some sleep, but Simmons’ voice stops him.

“Agent Ward,” she calls, urgently, but when he looks back to her she hesitates, biting her bottom lip like she already regrets speaking up. “I—” She swallows. “I’d much rather not be alone,” she finally confesses, her voice so thin that he barely hears her. If the room hadn’t been completely silent, he probably wouldn’t have. “If you don’t mind some company—”

“Oh,” he lets out, surprised. “Yeah, yeah, sure,” he quickly says, walking back in. “I can stay here for a while.”

“Thank you,” she says, softly, as he sits down next to her, if at a respectable distance.

An heavy silence falls between them, because exactly what can two survivors of such a mind-blowing disaster say to each other, and Grant starts playing with his hands on his lap, trying not to let himself think too much and failing, as he’s been doing since when he’s stopped having anything urgent to do.

“You are not one of them too, are you?” Simmons suddenly asks, for which he’s pretty grateful.

It’s a stupid question, because even if he were he surely wouldn’t tell her, but he understands her need to ask.

“Nope,” he says, with a tired sigh. He rubs his face with one hand, and he surprises himself when a grin starts bubbling at his lips. “Victoria would break my legs merely for _entertaining_ the idea, I think,” he explains then, when Simmons gives him a confused look.

“Victoria?”

“Agent Hand,” he corrects, gesturing vaguely towards the door. “She’s my SO.” A pause. “She raised me right, so— no Hydra for me, don’t worry.”

She smiles a little, although he isn’t sure which part exactly amused her. “That’s a relief,” she sighs, leaning back against the couch.

“You know, it isn’t over yet,” he feels compelled to remind her, because she looks so _exhausted_. “We can put up one hell of a fight, get the reins back.” Hell, having _her_ there is probably a good thing, especially considering that the other side has got Fitz.

She turns her head towards him, offering the shadow of a smile for his effort. “I hope so too.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


End file.
